How many times have you heard the word “epic” used to describe a fishing trip? A thousand times? More? Its frequent use does nothing but enhance the stereotype that those of us who spend ungodly amounts of time chasing fish routinely exaggerate and spin tall tales. Not entirely untrue.
At the risk of adding another log to the fire of overwritten hook and bullet adventures, this is the story of a truly epic day that photographer Tom Lynch and I spent fishing for striped bass with Chuck Many on lower Chesapeake Bay. I have chased stripers for more than 50 years and know plenty of stories from the so-called good old days. This outing was reminiscent of the catches you might read about in dusty tales from yesteryear, minus the “heroic” anglers and “smart, savvy” stripers.
We had 11 bites on a Tuesday in mid-December 2021 and landed nine fish. Their weights, in pounds, as registered on an IGFA-certified BogaGrip scale are as follows: 55, 54, 53 47, 44, 44, 41, 37. That’s a good day in any era. All hooked in the lip on circle hooks and released. A ninth fish, which Lynch brought to Many’s 28-footer, was easily in the 40s, but we didn’t bother to weigh it. “I remember us laughing and not even weighing my last fish because it wasn’t a 50,” recalls Lynch, who is 58 and runs a photography gallery in Point Pleasant Beach, New
